Red Gossamer Silk
by camlowe
Summary: Katara is a gift to the Fire Lord. She is young and afraid, starting a life anew. As a servant she must accept that she is property of the Fire Nation and that her life is for them to sacrifice. She lives to serve them, after all. [ dark!katara ] [ zutara ] [ semi AU ]
1. Chapter 1

**Red Gossamer Silk  
camlowe  
world: **Slightly AU  
 **characters:** slightly different.

* * *

A/N: I am back to continue with all my stories. Finally. And as such, I have developed a new idea for a story. I know the whole "Katara Fire Nation Slave" is cliche, but hopefully you people will like the twist I put into it. For one, I can tell you in advanced that Katara will not have the same personality she does in the series. She will have certain elements that make her Katara, of course, but since I am changing her whole life in the series for one of my own, her new life will change the outcome of who she becomes. And, yes, I am reffering to something akin to a dark!Katara. Now, go ahead and read.

* * *

.

"My lord," Commander Zhao announced to the Fire Lord. "I present to you, in honor of your gracious ascension, a gift."

Iroh could tell his youngest brother was pleased. He was always one for gifts.

The crowd of guests parted for whatever surprise Zhao had brought in this time. Iroh took a sip from his tea. While murmurs filled the room, he did not bother to even acknowledge whatever it was that the gift was, much less give it thought. He knew that it was spoils of war. Yet he was not expecting to see a girl.

She was a young thing. Seven at most.

The child had sad blue eyes and trembled, but Iroh doubted that it was because of her circumstances. Those eyes were tormented and distant. Lost beyond the point of rationality.

"What," his brother spoke with disgust,"is that?"

"To you, my lord, I present the last waterbender of the Southern Water Tribe."

"The last waterbender?" he spat. "That creature is supposed to be a bender?"

The child was still dressed in her own clothes, Iroh realized. Dirty, stained, and soot covered furry rags.

"Is this a joke?" the heat in the room heightened.

Zhao quickly tried to elaborate. "This girl is also the last nember of the southern water tribe. Untrained, maliable. To keep as a trophy."

"I have enough trophies. Enough."

"But my Lord, she is the daughter of the Chief. She is a message, to her sister tribe, to the rest of the world, that the Fire Nation, your glorious empire, and your glorious self, are keeping their royalty as pets."

Iroh noticed that her brother found the girl more appealing now.

"Very well," the Fire Lord conceded tighly. He seemed unimpressed, and with a dismissive nod, a lady in waiting came to the girl and took her by the hand. Iroh watched as she was escorted by the woman and a guard at their backs, all whislt Commander Zhao, with a dark brow, sat next to him.

"Hello, General," he greeted.

Iroh raised his cup to him, and then served himself more tea.

"She's a child," he reprimanded, his eyes never leaving the line of gifts before his brother.

"She's a _waterbender_."

"She is a _child_."

"She could be dangerous."

"You've sentenced her to a life of slavery. Of misery."

"It serves better to have her as an asset. I should have killed her."

Iroh placed his tea on the table. "Why punish her as such?"

"There is the possibility," Zhao muttered.

"The White Lotus is not recruiting children. Much less one so far away. You raided her village, detroyed it, all for a child that does not even know how to bend."

"The Rebellion is growinng. I want to cut all possible threats. She is somethig that could be."

"But she is not," he allowed his voice to come short. "You've made sure to cut all ties to the water tribes. The North has isolated itself from its sister. You have endlessly visited the Southern Water tribe every few years to assure that it is not recuperating. My Lord Father, in his honor, let you permanently remove every single bender in that village. What could she be? She would have never known bending, or learned, on her own."

"She is now part of the Fire Nation. She serves her new master, Fire Lord Ozai."

"I believe, that you yourself have introduced her to the world. Now she is more of a threat than you'd think."

"She will not be a threat as long as she keeps from the Rebellion."

"That girl would have lived a life, happy, away from all the War."

"The War is ongoing everywhere. She would have suffered from it inevitably. Would you have rather she'd join one of those ridiculous movements in the colonies?"

"Perhaps."

"Be wary, General." Zhao was bothered. "You seem to have taken to the White Lotus yourself."

Iroh took a moment to watch his brother accept a new gift; an exotic parrot sloth with bright colorful feathers.

"They fight for a good cause."

"They want to destroy the Fire Nation," Zhao hissed.

"They want to stop the war," he spoke. "That is something many of our own people wish for."

"So you support the ones, who, if I'm not mistaken, were responsible for the death of your son during the Siege?"

Iroh placed his cup on the table, calmly. "My son," he cleared,"died at the Wall. The White Lotus fights in the colonies."

"It has been almost a year now, has it not? Since Captain Lu Ten's death?" he voiced. "You cannot possibly still believe that the White Lotus was not responsible for his death, General."

"Enough," he broke.

Zhao smiled. "Children are easy to mold. And she," he smiled,"will now definitely be nothing but a faithful servant."

"Be careful, Zhao."

"Commander," he growled.

"General."

.

* * *

.

A handmaid was combing the girl's hair when Iroh came across them. It had been a day since her arrival, and as she was being kept in the closed quarters of servants, where Ursa's ladies in waiting used to reside, she was easy to find.

The girl, who had yet to speak, was now dressed in red.

"General Iroh," the handmaid said, quickly bowing to her superior.

He waved a hand, dissmissing her.

"They dressed you in red," he stated. The girl seemed not to hear him.

"Girl," he said, approaching carefully. "What is your name?"

The caretaker assigned to her had told him that the girl had yet to speak. The Fire Lord, uncaring about the welfare of his new charge did not even bother with the thought. Iroh, however, was concerned. He could only imagine the horrors she'd seen.

"I am asking you to speak," he coaxed. She allowed herself to look at him.

The girl, blue eyes questioning, inspected Iroh from head to toe. She watched him, doubtful, and said nothing. Sighing, and knowing that this would happen, the General looked around the room, and upon finding a comfortable looking chair across from her, sat down.

"What is your name?" he asked again from the small chair he was sitting in.

She stared at him.

Iroh watched her in the same manner.

Every inch he moved, her eyes followed. Iroh noticed that her eyes held an intensity that was familiar to him. Angered, yet calm, as if she'd come to terms with whatever suffering it was that made them so cold. They seemed to be more alive since the last time he'd seen her, but the heavy sadness remained in them.

"What," he said,"is your name?"

For a while the question hanged in the air, limp. Then she shook her head no.

Iroh laughed incredously.

"So you won't tell me your name, ah? Fair enough. I haven't introduced myself."

Again, she watched him mutely.

"I am Iroh," he said soflty, testing. "And you are?"

She shook her head again.

In the next moment of silence that followed, the handmaiden he had dismissed earlier approached them with a tray that had two teacups and some treats. He waved his hand, inviting the girl to eat. Her eyes now, finally, left him to trace the food.

She, for this, was not shy. Tentatively, she picked up a sweet dumpling roll and ate it. In a few bites, she was done with half the platter.

Smiling, Iroh motioned so that the servants would bring some more and silently watched her as she ate.

A few minutes passed before she remembered that he was still there. Her eyes widened.

Quickly, she took a cup of tea and a dumpling. With her head low, she approached him, hands outstrecthed so that he could take what she offered. It seemed, to him, that she was apologizing for her gluttony.

Two brown little hands, sticky from their endeavours, were offering him food.

Iroh took the tea and the dumpling from her hands. Slowly, she looked up. Her eyes were wide and uneasy, unsure. The General took a bite from the dumpling, and then sipped his tea. Her eyes turned bright, a satisfied gleam to them.

"Thank you," he said.

The girl, in return, smiled.

She was missing a tooth and there were crumbs in the corners of her mouth.

He laughed, feeling relief, feeling affection blooming in his chest at this selfless girl, this kind and pure child, trying to befriend him in her own way.

She did not speak to him that day, nor the day after, but she was, in a strange manner, coping.

.

* * *

.

It broke his heart to think about the memory in later years.

.

* * *

.

He joined her for tea and food every afternoon. Iroh learned much from her mannerisms.

The girl disliked ginseng tea, but had a love for chamomile. She liked rolls but preffered to eat mochi. She disliked using utensils, but did so when he did, and she ate when he did, too. She liked it when he brought in things to read, and usually tried to look over his shoulder, but did not want to get too close easily. She had a bethrothal necklace attached to her wrist with a bloody ribbon and she refused to part with it, not even when he offered to replace the ribbon for a clean one, not even to take baths. She liked to dance around when he played the sungi horn every once in a while, and she liked to watch him write letters.

.

* * *

.

"Is blue your favorite color?" he asked one day.

She nodded.

"Well then, maybe we should get you something blue to wear."

She smiled.

.

* * *

.

"Girl," he called her attention while she ate.

She immediately stopped eating to give him her full attention.

"Is that your engagement necklace?" he knew the water tribes had the costum of bethrothing by promise of a neklace. He knew the basics of their culture, but he could not imagine that children also participated in bethrothals.

She looked at her wrist. The blood had sipped into the blue and had stained the material almost entirely. It was still partly blue but now the red corrupted the silk ribbon. The stone, light blue with the sign of waves, was still beautiful to look at.

She seemed to be pained when she answered shaking her head no.

.

* * *

.

He called a seamstress and had her bring him blue silks.

The petition, he knew, was rare, and he expected to find very little blue.

At the end, the seamstress brought him only two tones. One was the color of navy blue, a tone of fire, whilst the other was lighter. It was the color of the sky, but also the color of lightning.

He chose the lighter one, remembering that she would probably like to wear something brighter.

"Make a dress," he told her, "for a child."

The seamstress nodded.

"Similar to Princess Azula's height, possibly the same build."

The seamstress, once again, nodded. She did not ask questions and told Iroh that the dress would be finished in two days.

.

* * *

The girl entertained herself when she was alone by drawing. When he visited she would show him her latest masterpieces and most of them constituted of a family of five. In the drawings there were two identifiable women and a man. The other two were a boy and a girl. He assumed the girl was her and that the boy was her brother. The man must be her father, and then one of the women must be her mother. The other, could be anyone from an aunt to a grandmother.

He always asked her questions but she never answered if it was anything that required her to speak. Iroh, then, asked her yes or no questions. He never asked her from where she came from or what happened when Zhao separated her from her family. It was always those questions that made her light blue eyes darken, and he began to notice that this girl very much resembled the unsteadiness of an ocean.

.

* * *

.

"How old are you?"

She shrugged.

"Seven?"

No.

"Eight?"

She nodded.

.

* * *

.

He learned that while she enjoyed listening to his stories and the scrolls he read to her, she really did not know how to read. It happened once when he was reading to her on the Tale of the House of the Moon, and she, recognizing the written version for moon, pointed at the rest of the title asking him to read it. It seemed, to him, that this girl had never truly been schooled before. He immediately searched for a court tutor the same day.

.

* * *

.

He found her wearing the dress. She wore it almost everyday.

She loved it, he could tell.

But he was sad that to him that dressed resembled lightning.

To her, at least, it was the color of the sky.

.

* * *

.

Azula and her friends once ran past the hall when he was visiting her.

Laughter echoed round, and he caught her looking longingly at the door.

She wanted to play with other children, it seemed.

That and have her liberty.

"I have a nephew," he told her.

She looked at him questioningly.

"His name is Zuko," he continued. "You'd like him."

She shrugged.

"Oh, I'm sure you would."

She shrugged again.

"You'll meet him someday."

This time, she nodded.

.

* * *

.

It had been four weeks since her arrival when his brother, unfortunately, remembered that she existed.

They were dinning when Ozai, suddenly, turned to him with a grim smile.

"General Iroh," he called across the table.

Iroh looked at his younger sibling, wondering. "Yes, Fire Lord?"

"I heard that you have taken to doting on that _creature_ ," he drawled, "the waterbending child."

Iroh stiffened. "Yes, it seems I have," he said with a soft smile.

"Hn. How is she?"

"I suppose she is as good as a child ripped apart from hper motherland can be."

Across Iroh, his nephew, the prince, looked up questioningly. Princess Azula pretended to be uninterested, but she was very much intently listening. Their father barely spoke when they dined, much less about children.

"I heard," his brother continued,"that you are having her tutored."

"Yes, my Lord, she is. The child does not know how to read or write."

Ozai smiled cruelly. The fire in the room flickered. "But she is water tribe scum."

Iroh noticed how Zuko seemed to looked down at the word his father used to describe the girl.

"She is a new addition to the servants. Should she not learn how to read and write?"

The Fire Lord paused and met his eyes threateningly. "No."

Iroh, growing angry, glared at his brother. "Why not?"

"You should know better, brother. She is _worthless_ , and you," he growled, "you are not to be associated with her."

"She is just a child," he almsot spat.

"I am the Fire Lord," Ozai threatened. "You will do as I say. That girl," he paused,"that girl is to be a servant. She shall not even learn how to spell her own name. Because, _does_ ," he smiled coldly, " _she even know what her own name is_?"

Iroh did not speak.

.

* * *

.

The girl was not tutored but Iroh still came to her.

She was harmless and pure, yet to be intoxicated and poisoned by the vile that ran through the Fire Nation, yet to be broken in spirit and hope. He knew that it wouldn't last. He had yet to see someone that was an exception.

She was playing with a few dolls today, raggedy dolls covered in dust that she'd been given by the handmaids that had come to adore her as much as he did her. In the Fire Nation pure things did not last long because they became desirable; it seemed as if there was an urge to corrupt them. This girl, as long as she remained kept away, she would be an adored girl. But how long would she be sane if surrounded by the same four walls?

"Will you ever tell me your name?" he asked.

She shook her head no, but this time she smiled.

"If you're not going to tell me today, I'll just have to return tomorrow."

She agreed with a nod.

.

* * *

.

Iroh had noticed that his nephew's eyes followed him around a lot lately. Whenever they were in the same room, he would look at him expectantly.

He had to smile at how he was trying to decided wether to ask him about the girl or not.

"She's eight," he told him one day.

Zuko was practicing his caligraphy but had dropped his ink quill to look at him, auburn eyes burning with questions.

"She's like Azula, then?"

Iroh laughed. Zuko had recently decided that all eight year olds fit into the same description as his sister. That was normal, and he did not blame him for the crestfallen look he had when thinking that she was just like his sister in attitude.

"She is not like your sister," he told him. "She is quiet and likes to play with dolls."

"Oh," was all the prince said. He seemed to be deep in thought.

"I think she would like to meet you someday."

Zuko looked at him, then, and brightened. He was genuinely excited about that prospect.

"I would like that," he told him. Yet Iroh had not time to reply to him as Dao, Zuko's tutor, had come back to the library. Prince Zuko had diligently returned to his caligraphy practice, but now his lips curbed to a smile.

"General Iroh," Dao acknowledged.

Iroh nodded, and watched Zuko from the sidelines. When his mother, Ursa, disappeared the month before Ozai's coronation the boy had kept to himself. Iroh had noticed - now that she was absent - that most of the time Zuko had spent laughing and smiling had been in the company of his mother. After she disappeared, it was weeks before he actually seemed awake again.

He'd caught him crying once, the General remembered. Zuko had been hiding in the library, and when Iroh came upon him he had angrily wiped at the tears, told him to leave him alone, and had ran off back to his chambers.

Iroh knew that the little prince was still sad, but he was glad that the thought of making a new friend had made him smile today. He now rarely smiled, keeping to himself most of the time. He reminded him of someone.

The girl, much like Zuko, had bold eyes that spoke about loneliness.

Iroh knew that loneliness was a ghost of the soul but he liked to imagine that the warmth of friendship would remove the cold of memory.

.

* * *

.

His brother had summoned him to the War Chamber.

When he arrived both Zuko and Azula sat there, watching their father on the other side of the wall of fire.

He sat next to the siblings and bowed to his brother.

"Fire Lord."

"General Iroh," he voiced. There was a pause. "You are to resume your position in Ba Sing Se."

Iroh did not protest. Lu Ten was the first thing that came to his mind at this.

"Brother," he pleaded.

The heat in the room rose terrifyingly.

"Fire Lord. You will address me as such," Ozai spoke, voice clipped.

"Yes, my Lord."

"You are all dismissed."

Iroh stood and bowed once again, followed by Zuko.

Princess Azula waited for the heat to simmer before announcing to his father that she wanted a new toy. Both uncle and nephew were walking towards the door when she spoke.

Ozai, complacent, gave his daughter the girl. "She can be your servant, Princess Azula. Let her be your next target while you practice your firebending."

"Thank you, Fire Lord," the young girl replied.

Zuko quickly turned back,"but Father, Azula will-"

"Prince Zuko," Ozai said tightly.

The boy, much like Iroh, was silenced.

.

* * *

.

"I have to say goodbye to you," he told the girl.

She was sitting in the floor and with an easy smile waved him goodbye.

"I will not be back tommorrow," he said.

She frowned.

"You will start training to be a maidservant. Princess Azula's maidservant."

She stood quickly, shaking her head no.

"It is for the best, girl," he said, sad.

She shook her head no and took hold of his hand, tugging, shaking her head no no no.

"I have to," he told her. "You wil be alright."

She shook her head no, and her heavily sad eyes seemed more sad than they usually were.

"I have to leave. Let go, child."

Unexpectedly, her eyes began to tear.

Iroh had never seen her cry. He knew that she was heart broken inside, but since the first day he'd seen her, no matter what, even when he approached subjects she did not like, she had never cried.

No, she shook her head. Pleading.

Iroh understood that in her eyes, he was the only person she'd come to trust on some level.

"I have to go," he said harshly. " _Let go_."

No, no, she shook her head. Iroh made his way to the door, and she still clung to his clothes. "Let go!"

Afraid, the girl cowered away from him, eyes wide, trembling, and crying.

His heart felt heavy, yet he gave her his back and walked away.

When he was about to turn the knob, however, she spoke.

"Katara," she said softly, her voice broken.

He looked at her for a second.

"Katara," she repeated, this time louder.

She was angry at him, he noticed, and yet - she wanted him to return.

He paused.

"Katara," he told her. "I'm sorry."

The he walked away and regretted not being able to do anything more for her.

.

* * *

.

Before he had to leave the next day, he decided to say goodbye.

As he was about to knock, the handmaid that usually tended to her opened the door.

"General, she bowed hastily.

"The girl?" he asked.

The maid shook her head. "I'm sorry, General," she spoke. "She has changed chambers. She now resides with the rest of the staff, below the kitchens. The Fire Lord has ordered it so."

"I see," was all he said.

.

* * *

.

He was already in his ship when he saw her again.

On the steps that led to the palace beyond the bay, his nephew and niece watched him leave. Zuko, Iroh could see, was waving at him. He waved back. Azula raised her hand to him but walked away. He was about to address a liutenant when he noticed that Azula was not alone.

Zuko had remained where he stood, still watching his ship depart, but his niece, the princess, had called someone to her side as she climbed the steps.

It was the girl.

 _Katara,_ he corrected himself. Katara was there, dressed in red. She hurried after the princess and then she was gone.

It would be months before Iroh saw her again. He would learn, later on, that that day he abandoned her had been a turning point.

She would not be the same girl he left behind when he saw her again. That he was sure of. And there was nothing he could do.

She was dressed in _red_. Red gossamer silk that was given to close servants of royalty. She served Azula now. She _belonged_ to Azula

She belonged to his brother, the Fire Lord.

 _The girl belonged to the Fire Nation._

 _._


	2. Chapter 2

**a/n:** I am publishing this when I have other stories to update. Please tell me what you think! It's a baby idea, but it could potentially turn into something big!  
 **btw:** i have no more comments.

* * *

.

"Alright, girl, listen up!"

Katara heard the woman barge into the room before she could cover up her tears. It had been only a few minutes ago that Iroh had said goodbye to her for the better. She, with her infuriating naivete, had now learned that in this world of red and gold she could not trust anyone not to hurt her.

Not even sad men that reminded her so much of the memory of her father.

Angrily wiping at her tears, she glared at the maidservant that was busily tending to the room. _Cleaning,_ Katara noticed. Cleaning. It was clear that once again she was being moved.

"You're wanted. I don't know why, I don't know, so don't ask,-" the woman spoke rapidly (not giving care to her),"-you're going to learn a few things."

The woman harshly tugged at the sheets on Katara's bed, later ripping them with force. The girl, witnessing the violent dismissal as the sheets were thrown to the ground, forced her gaze away.

"You're to become Princess's Azula's new chamber maid," the maidservant huffed, almost shaking the pillows. The few feathers that ripped reminded her of snow as they fell gently, a speck of white against the rusted red tiles. "You, get ready."

Katara chose to ignore her and looked at the heavy wooden door that was open bare to her right. She liked to imagine that she could just run free-imagine-since she already knew that escaping this fortress would not relieve her of the pain in her chest.

And that she could not escape these walls at all.

But a girl could dream.

"Are you listenin' to me, girl?"

Katara was yanked back to reality when she was practically dragged by her arm through the same doors she was just daydreaming about. "Listen," the woman spat, a bundle of the covers that used to be hers under her other arm. "My name's Joo."

The hold on her arm lessened and Katara saw that her skin had considerably paled under her touch."You, girl, have to pay attention. No one here cares that you're just a girl," Joo kept walking and talking,"so you better learn to take what you get."

Wide eyed, the water tribe girl followed, almost tripping on her own feet to keep pace with the force that this woman was. "Get it?"

She nodded.

"Now," the woman continued,"we must get you ready."

.

* * *

 _._

 _T_ he kitchens were crowded with the servants that bustled and buzzed, like bees. All serving for one man. Katara had to duck many times to keep track of Joo, but then it was easy as they reached her new accommodations.

According to Joo, and from what she could see, she would be sharing a room with all the female servants that resided in the palace to personally tend to the royals. Several cots lay in line against the wall and at the end of each, a small chest to keep their clothes in. Joo hastily shooed her to the last one and opened her chest to reveal a set of clothes. They were a bright red, and Katara noticed that it was the same outfit that Joo was wearing.

She paused to ponder. Joo was a pretty woman. Her eyes and the corners of her mouth had wrinkles, but the skin on her high cheekbones was tight and her eyes were steel. The uniform on her seemed very worn, but it fit and gave her an air of authority. She wondered who it was she served.

"Put this on," the woman snapped. "And hurry." She motioned to the small curtains that seemed to be for changing, and not wanting to get into this woman's bad side, she quickly complied.

Walking behind the tall curtains, Katara shed her blue dress and changed it for a qipao, constructed in a very delicate material in scarlet. Before she stepped out, she glanced at Iroh's dress and decided to leave it as it was.

She still doesn't understand why she trusted him after all he and the rest of these people have done to her.

"Good," Joo voiced when she saw the blue eyed girl rapidly reemerge, but yet showed no true approval. "You're quick to learn."

.

* * *

.

By the end of the day, Katara thought she was going to die.

Looking at the tall ceiling above her new bed, she couldn't imagine why someone was supposed to dress someone else. It did not make sense and her fingers had small cuts from trying over and over to adjust and tighten fabrics. She had to learn how to do and undo lace undergarments in a fast manner, how to efficiently clean a room in very little time, and how to attend to very subtle and very slight motions of the hand.

"Be quick," she was told.

"Be faster," and she tried.

But then there was always the "It is not enough," and the "Princess Azula doesn't like this sort of tardiness."

"Learn, learn, learn."

She was overwhelmed.

 _Carry the hot water to the chambers, prepare the baths, always be at my command, learn how to do things without being told to, await with the bathe robes, bring the meal, keep your posture, do not be a mediocre servant._

Running behind Joo had proved to be more strenuous than what she originally thought. _Keep up, girl._

And she was so tired.

The other servants, much like Joo had claimed, did not care that she was just a girl. Most of them viewed her as a nuisance for not being fast enough, for being in their way, for just being new. She understood that she was interrupting their usual routines, however that didn't explain why the girls close to her age also chose to ignore her and to treat her like dirt.

When Joo witnessed a young kitchen maid purposely knock against the girl, the woman scoffed before explaining to the dark skinned girl that it could be only for two reasons: (one) that she was water tribe trash, and (two) that they were envious _she_ was dressed in red gossamer silk.

Katara did not know if she'd rather it be the former than the latter.

But now, as she lay awake at night, she couldn't help but let her mind wander.

She was to attend to the princess Azula tomorrow morning. She also realized that she hated Iroh.

Learning how to tend to the princess had distracted her from coming to the realization of what the extent of her feelings for him were, but now, with nothing to keep her busy, she had reached a conclusion with respects to him.

She hated him.

During her travel on the ship she was kept apart and barely fed. She was wallowing in her own sorrow (and still was) and then she was sold off like an animal. Her only consolation was Iroh. This fat man that was mourning the loss of his own heart. She could see, in his eyes and manner of talk, that he had lost some of the light in his life. Sometimes she'd caught him watching her play with a gleeful smile, but she knew that it was not her that he was seeing.

And she'd seen her father do that too, before.

But at least Iroh had befriended her and he made her laugh in this cruel and cold place that reeked of smoke and ashes. She'd made a friend, she'd trusted him.

Until it was over and he had to go and she broke her own very manner of mourning to keep him there. Yet he still turned away.

His apology, to her, was nothing.

It was pitch black. Her eyes could not see, and hoping to sleep, she turned in her cot.

She was learning to keep a very guarded heart.

.

* * *

.

That morning Katara was ushered into the Princess's room at dawn.

She was ordered to keep her eyes cast as the princess woke and came about.

At the unearthly hour, they stood by the door, hidden by the darkness.

Joo had explained to her that the people in the Fire Nation rose with the sun. It was the boiling blood in their veins, it seemed to Katara, that made them so cruel and cold to others. The thought entertained her, tired as she was.

Just when the crimson colored curtains started oozing in the darkness, Katara knew that it was finally sunrise.

Joo straightened and the girl yawned, not expecting to be hit by her tired behavior.

She went to glare at Joo but the gray eyes of the woman were focused on the bed.

There, in the middle of all the bright light starting to filter from the high window to the bed, a bundle started to uncoil.

"Good morning, my princess," Joo spoke.

Next to her, a younger servant bowed her head. Katara did as them, and then raised her head to meet two copper colored eyes. It seemed that she came alive as soon as she woke.

The princess, close to her own age, was eyeing her with a predatory gleam in her eyes. She meant trouble.

"Joo," she (all manners) spoke politely, albeit hoarsely from just waking.

"Yes, my princess?"

"Who is that?" there was genuine curiosity to her voice. One Katara did not doubt, but feared.

"This," Joo spoke, motioning for the water tribe girl to step forward, "is-"

The Princess, recognizing the blue eyes, brightened immediately. "My Uncle's ward?"

Joo nodded, "Yes, my princess. She is now your new chambermaid, by demand of your father, Fire Lord Ozai."

Katara, careful not to meet the eyes of the Princess, looked downwards.

"Girl," the Princess spat. "Look at me."

She did. And she froze.

"Why do you not address me when I call you?"

Katara, not wanting to be put on the spot, shook her head quickly.

"She does not speak, your highness," the woman explained rapidly.

"Oh," the princess seemed taken aback.

"She understands commands, however. It seems she is mute."

Katara noticed that the Princess began to smile, and that only one side of her mouth curled. She grinned as if she knew the answers to the world, secretive and full of malicious mirth. "Then all the more perfect."

Now it was Joo that seemed surprised. "I supposed-"

"Joo," the princess interrupted her, swinging her legs to the side of the giant bed. "Have you not noticed," she said softly, "that spider cats like to hunt elephant mice more than birds?"

Joo nodded, slightly wide eyed. Katara didn't know what to think of this girl that seemed slightly crazy.

On the corner of her eyes, however, she noticed that Joo was glancing at her worriedly, as if whatever the Princess was saying made sense.

"Have you ever wondered why?" she jumped off the bed, her satin linens rumpled.

"No, Princess Azula," Joo said hurriedly, approaching the Princess while the other maid tended to the attached tub behind a nearby screen.

"Sparrowkeets," she began.

"Sparrowkeets, Princess?"

"Yes, Joo," she said almost tiredly, as if Joo was too slow to catch on. Katara tried to focus on the conversation, but Joo motioned for her to join the other girl in emptying the warm water and the salts into the tub. Happy to oblige, she walked away, not wanting to be near the princess.

"You see, Sparrowkeets sing," Katara overheard the princess speaking.

She tried to concentrate on playing with the water and filing the tub, but the Princess's voice demanded to be heard.

"When a Sparrowkeet sings, it communicates," she said sweetly, softly. Joo, in this particular conversation, was the child.

Katara watched the other maid drop small rocks into the water, all dissolving. She also continued listening.

"When spider cats want to hunt sparrowkeets, that can be a problem."

"And why is that?" Joo questioned. From where she stood, Katara could hear the pieces of clothing being discarded as Joo helped the Princess undress.

"Sparrowkeets sing, Joo," the Princess was frustrated. "It tells the others what's coming. That's no fun for the spider cat."

"Oh," was all the older woman responded.

"Elephant rats, however," she continued,"don't make a sound."

"That is interesting, Princess."

The princess huffed in childish indignation. She hated not being taken serious, and Katara could tell.

Then, "It makes it easier to _kill_ them."

Joo was about to speak, but the Princess interrupted her again.

"To kill elephant rats and all _vermin_ alike."

There was silence afterwards. This girl was not crazy, but cunning and deadly.

.

* * *

.

She had to trail after the Princess for her every whim. The palace, after running around with Joo and now following Azula, was all a blur.

Every single thing, she had to accompany her from a good distance, but close enough to seem as if she had always been there.

The Princess had yet to address her again since the morning, but Katara could tell that that would not last long.

Joo had left them to go around, and after the Princess had her breakfast at bed, it was time for her to say goodbye to her uncle. She knew exactly who that man was.

Walking towards the stairs that led to the palace's private pier, Katara was deep in thought.

The anger she harbored at Iroh was shifting. Knowing that he was leaving, however, made her relatively sad. She told herself that she was being a baby and ignored her feelings in the matter, refusing to allow herself to appear weak. The coal colored ship resembled the one she was brought in very much. She shuddered at the memory.

Hidden by the shadows, she watched the General turn to look in her direction. Below her, The Princess was standing just a few meters from who Katara guessed was the Prince. He was taller than the princess and all square angles, with a topknot and the same ink black hair. She didn't have a chance to see his face, however, because the Princess lasted less in saying goodbye to her Uncle.

As the Fire Nation girl climbed up the staircase to leaave, Katara hurried after her, lifting the sides of her gossamer silk dress to avoid falling.

Once finally on the smooth marble terrain that was the entrance to the courtyard, she glanced back, looking down at the departing ship. The Prince was still waving enthusiastically, but the General was not looking at him. Katara noticed that his eyes had found her, and she, angry at him, walked away hastily, pretending to be more bothered with trying to reach the Princess Azula.

She would never trust him again.

.

* * *

.

Katara learns that day that the Princess does have friends.

Their names are Ty Lee and Mai.

They play in the gardens, doing cartwheels and sitting under the shadows, giggling.

She is not close enough to hear them talking, but she can tell the dynamic of their group.

Mai is quiet and reserved, while Ty Lee is bright and bubbly.

They both dress less expensively than Azula, specially Ty Lee, but they're more than normal commoners. They have to be, because Katara is sure that the Princess wouldn't have it otherwise.

"Girl!" Azula calls her.

Katara hurries, dreading making her angry.

Princess Azula starts speaking before she gets there, assuming that she's already standing behind her.

"-ome and do a cartwheel."

A cartwheel? She didn't know how to do those.

Shaking her head, she steps back.

"What's wrong with her?" Mai inquires.

Princess Azula laughs. "The dumdum can't speak."

Ty Lee comes too close for her liking, her wide brown eyes questioning. "She can't? Why not?"

The royal shrugs. "She's stupid, I guess."

Ty Lee frowns. Mai remains quiet, watching them interact. Katara, however, keeps her eyes cast.

"Go away," her Princess tells her.

Quickly, she starts walking away, but not without overhearing the rest of their conversation."

"She's useless. I don't even know her name."

"Then why did you ask for her?" Mai asks.

"Hmm," she ponders. "I knew it would make Zuzu mad, and seriously, what is my Uncle thinking! She's trash!"

"Why would it make Zuko mad?" Mai asks, but Azula ignores her.

"Waterbenders should be exterminated."

"She's a waterbender?" Ty Lee asks while trying to stand on her hands.

Katara doesn't need to hear her to know what she's going to say next.

"She's nothing."

.

* * *

.

She does not have to assist during dinner, but she does have to be present.

The royal family dines together only then, and it's a very quiet time. The Fire Lord sits at the head of the table, where the most lamps are collected, making it harder to decipher his expression. The flames behind him are low, and the whole room is a dark wine red. The Princess and the Prince dine across each other, and no one says a word.

She has her back to the Prince, but she can see the outline of his face. He, unlike the Princess, doesn't have too sharp features, and his eyes are lighter colored.

When they are all done, the Fire Lord stands and leaves, an entourage of servants after him. Most are guards.

Then it is just the Princess and the Prince. They glance at each other before standing and going separate ways. Katara trails after Princess Azula.

The halls are lowly lit, and she follows the Princess back to her chambers, where two other maids wait for her to get into her sleep clothes.

Then, sighing, she goes to the kitchens, has her own dinner, and goes back to her small cot.

.

* * *

.

The next day is uneventful.

The Princess has her friends join her in her chamber, where they just gossip and laugh.

Katara lets her mind wander most of the time, and usually likes to imagine what her friends would be like if she had any here.

She learns that Mai has a crush on Prince Zuko, and that Ty Lee is a circus acrobat. She's really good.

The Princess likes to be the main topic of conversation, so they usually speak about things that bother her.

Her main concern is that her father doesn't like her because she's a girl.

Katara is old enough to roll her eyes because she already knows that in this world it is not an uncommon situation.

.

* * *

.

She follows the Princess everywhere.

But she is rarely called on.

The days are calm and there is not much that she can do from following the princess around. She has assumed the role of a servant quite easily and by the time she returns to her small bed, she is too tired to keep thinking. She needs all the sleep she can get because it seems that this people do not rest.

Resigned to her role, she lurks in the shadows. Most of the time it is the same schedule as the previous day, but between days, the Princess has to visit her tutor. Those are Katara's favorite days because they get to go to the library.

The palace has whole wing dedicated to studies. Nearby, Katara has learned by now, the Fire Lord's personal council meets.

Where Princess Azula studies, it is quiet. Since the council is nearby, even Princess Azula barely makes noise.

She sits surrounded by walls of scrolls while Chu, her personal sifu, attends her. Sometimes they arrive early and they have to wait for the Prince to leave. She is curious because she's seen so little of him, and she thinks that she has yet to hear him speak.

The Prince, much like the Princess, has to take lessons, however, he has his own teacher.

It seems that the royal siblings barely share anything.

But she doesn't think much of this.

Hiding behind the towers of scrolls, Katara is content.

Let them play their games and be cold to their own blood. When she wonders between the words she cannot read, she visits her home and thinks of her brother. He would always be nice to her, and they would always speak.

Sometimes she misses him more because of this.

.

* * *

.

She was walking by the fourth aisle when she saw it.

It was a scroll with a delicate dark blue emblem that she could not decipher.

Looking around to see that nobody is watching her (because she is now invisible), Katara takes out the scroll.

It has a soft water color drawing of a woman. Katara can only decipher the word _Lady._

She cannot read the story, but she gazes at the scroll. It is beautiful, and the drawing of the woman is also beautiful.

The red markings on her face are mesmerizing, and she continues to gaze at her through the whole session.

The next time she visits, she purposely stands in the same isle to retrieve the scroll.

The mysterious lady, Katara decides, is a waterbender. She likes to imagine that the scroll is about a girl lost in the fire nation, and that she hides behind the red markings so that no one can tell she's a waterbender. Like her.

But she doesn't have red markings.

Nonetheless, that scroll is her favorite to look at.

.

* * *

.

"What should I read next?" the Princess asks.

Chu wordlessly hands her a new scroll that is held close by a loose golden string.

Katara watches as the girl opens it and reads to herself. Chu continues whatever it is teachers do when they write. She already knows that she will never read.

"I'll be there-" the voice is unknown to her, and the Princess sharply looks up from her reading at the interruption.

Her angered eyes zero in on the Prince who is pushing the wide arched doors open, still looking behind him at whoever he was talking to. Katara notices that the Princess holds back from saying something because behind Zuko comes in his own tutor.

She seems to respect scholars more than she does maids.

"I'm sorry, Azula," the Prince speaks. "I left one of my readings behind, it will just be a second."

The Princess glares at him but gives him her back, seeming to be nonchalant. The Prince, then, proceeds to move into the shelves.

His mentor stays behind, and Katara freezes. It seems as if the Prince is heading in her direction. Not wanting to be seen, she cowers behind the shelf, and the relaxes when he goes into the one before hers.

She watches him pace on the other side of the aisle, trying to find his scroll.

"I left it here," he tells himself, his hands ghosting over the empty place.

Katara looks down at her own hands, remembering that she has the scroll on the Lady.

"Hurry up, Zuzu," the Princess calls with annoyance.

"I will, just.." he is looking through the corners and itching closer.

Katara stays still, pretending to be the shadow that she has become in the past days. But it is useless.

The Prince meets her eyes, and he too, stands still.

It's only for a moment, but she can see that he recognizes her. They all do.

"You," he mouths, and Katara can see that there's gleam of excitement in his eyes.

She hastily pushes the scroll he is looking for through the others, and watches him take it tentatively, his eyes never leaving hers.

"You," he says slightly louder, and she notices that he does not look dangerous, unlike his sister.

"Zuzu!" the Princess snaps.

The Prince looks at her one more time, words turning blue in his mouth, but then he turns and leaves.

When he walks away after his tutor though the doors, when the Princess is back to studying, she pauses and thinks.

Katara wonders what he was going to say.

.


End file.
